


Unintentional Imitation Is An Even More Sincere Form Of Flattery

by TheWrongKindOfPC



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-21
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-26 09:52:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWrongKindOfPC/pseuds/TheWrongKindOfPC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It wasn’t like this was her dream job, she reflected one night over cold takeout and music videos on TV for songs she actually listened to. She’d been offered it at a point when the ‘starving’ part of ‘starving artist had started to lose its appeal." aka the fic about how the Jonas Brothers' stylist is a My Chemical Romance fan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unintentional Imitation Is An Even More Sincere Form Of Flattery

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at my LJ on July 24th, 2010

When Michelle was a little girl, she never cherished dreams of some day growing up to be the stylist to a boyband. It never occurred to her, and if she’s been pressed, growing up, to imagine what such a person would be like, she’d have most likely assumed he or she would be perky, enthusiastic and a little shallow.

These were a few of the thoughts sluggishly moving through her mind as she sipped wincingly at her steaming hot coffee and tried not to hate her life as she waited for the boys to show up. It might have been barely past dawn, but the boys had a publicity appearance in a few hours, and Joe had called her in a panicky crisis of faith over the new pair of sneakers he’d campaigned so long and so hard for. Clearly, Michelle’s expertise was necessary.

Joe was late and when he finally did waltz in, she was all set to chew him out for it until he smiled winningly and held out a steaming Starbucks cup. “Double espresso shot, right?”

Alright, so maybe they were pretty sweet sometimes.

...

Joe and Nick liked to match onstage and Joe liked to have supreme executive control over his wardrobe, for all that he’d sometimes beg Michelle for her opinion (he always made sure she was clear that he was only asking her opinion as a friend, ‘Chelle, I don’t care that you have a degree in fashion design, I don’t need a stylist). Kevin, though, Kevin was probably the most easygoing kid she’d ever met, and he didn’t feel the need to coordinate with his brothers much and he wasn’t trying to make a statement as a fashion icon--in short, he had not problems letting Michelle do her job, which was a nice change.

Pretty much, she could dress Kevin however she saw fit, and he’d run with it. Michelle never really felt the need to use her powers for evil, but to be honest? She was a little bored. Mr. and Mrs. Jonas trusted her now, more and more exponentially with the boys’ growing popularity. She hadn’t thought, starting out, that she’d miss trying to argue them around until they let her do what she wanted, but now that she had free reign (except for Joe)? She was starting to lose interest.

It wasn’t like this was her dream job, she reflected one night over cold takeout and music videos on TV for songs she actually listened to. She’d been offered it at a point when the ‘starving’ part of ‘starving artist had started to lose its appeal, and it was a pretty good job but--huh. That was definitely My Chem on her TV screen, but what was Frank Iero doing with Kevin’s guitar? Not for the first time she wished she had DVR so she could pause, take a closer look, and reassure herself that she wasn’t hallucinating. Frank Iero, Frank Iero, of My Chemical fucking Romance was playing on the exact same style of guitar she’d been trying to plan Kevin’s outfit around for days now (You’d think it wouldn’t be so hard, the damn thing is white).

After a moment, regretfully, she concluded that stealing some approximation of Frank’s look for Kevin would probably work out less brilliantly than she might like.

...

The thought came back to her a few weeks later during a Strategy Meeting, in which Nick explained his Artistic Vision and Kevin and Joe tried to translate to her how it was supposed to apply to their clothing.

To be honest, Michelle had kind of zoned out for a moment, but she tuned back in in plenty of time to hear Nick say, “--more dramatic, you know?”

“Like The White Stripes,” Joe interrupted to clarify knowledgeably.

“Um,” Nick went on, thrown, as if the interruption had made him lose his train of thought, “Right. We could totally do a color scheme like theirs, too, couldn’t we?”

Joe seemed to like the color-scheme concept. It was hardly a minute before they were debating precisely which color, so Michelle took a moment to turn to Kevin, smiling a little and asking, “So what do you think, Kev? Want to dress like a White Stripes tribute band as well?”

“Do they have tribute bands already? That was pretty fast, wasn’t it?” Kevin grinned at her a little sheepishly, “But where do I fit into that? If I’m remembering right, the White Stripes only have two people.”

It was a very good point, actually, but Michelle’s mind had already skipped to other bands that wore a lot of back which she could dress Kevin up as. There was one in particular that he already seemed to have a head-start with...

...

And so began her campaign to create a visual similarity between one of her favorite bands and the next big thing in tween sensations. It was fun, mostly, and Kevin seemed to know she was up to something, but he never asked what.

It was fun while it lasted, but she really should have known that dressing Kev in a jacket straight out of a Black Parade video would attract some notice. She’d been pushing to see how far she could go, and she got her answer a month or two later when Kevin came to see her the day after an awards show with an odd expression on his face.

“Michelle,” he asked a little cautiously, “Why did Pete Wentz accuse me of ‘dressing like a copycat’?”


End file.
